The Wizard Games
by Hatter of Madness
Summary: Twenty-four wizards. One champion. A fight to the death. Crossover of HP and Hunger Games. Set during GoF in place of the Triwizard Tournament. My games, my rules. Rated T for violence/language. Lots of OCs.
1. Chapter 1

**~*~The Wizard Games~*~  
><strong>**by Hatter of Madness**

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><p><strong>Chapter One—Cedric's POV<strong>

A fight to the death.

That was what the Wizard Games were. Twenty-four wizards went in...one came out alive. Being in the Games was a risky business, and no one was entirely sure where they started and why. But every few years, just to remind ourselves that we aren't savages like Muggles (the official rules state), they take four boys and four girls from three Wizarding schools—eight students from Hogwarts, eight students from Durmstrang, eight students from Beauxbatons—and force them to fight to the death.

The last few times the Wizard Games were played, Hogwarts' contenders were killed off almost immediately. There was only one victor from Hogwarts still around, and that was my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Alastor Moody. After his experiences and almost being killed off in the first five seconds, he had become an Auror.

This year, the Games were being held at my school. There was no avoiding it. If your name was pulled and no one volunteered for you, then you had to compete and fight until either you were killed or you killed everyone else. You were not allowed to use the Killing Curse. You were not allowed to use the Cruciatus Curse. You were not allowed to use the Imperius Curse.

You were allowed a wand and your wits.

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><p>When the two other schools arrived, I was a nervous wreck. Every time you took points away from your house, your name was entered again. And everyone, twelve or older, had their name at least entered once.<p>

Dumbledore would be pulling names from the Goblet of Fire that day. He would be announcing who the contenders would be. It was practically a death sentence. The odds weren't in your favor to win. It was you against twenty-three. Or, rather, twenty-three against you.

I sat at the Hufflepuff table, biting my lip repeatedly and wishing that they would just get the damn thing over with. My name was entered at least three times, probably more. This year, just getting a telling off from a teacher was reason enough to enter your name. It was at the teacher's discretion if your name was added or not. Merlin knew how many warnings I had received in Potions class.

I looked down the table nervously. Would they choose a Hufflepuff this year? It was not uncommon for a house to be misted over, what with all of the students attending Hogwarts. The last time there had been a games, all of the male champions were from Slytherin. Maybe I would be lucky.

My eye fell on my best friend, Maddie Lewis. She was a small girl of thirteen, sitting between two of her best friends and her mouth shut as they chattered away. She told me her name was entered once.

At my warning, she had been completely obedient in class. She never received so much as a stern look from a Professor. Odds were, with her name in there once, she would not be chosen.

I had heard some people received punishments just so their name was entered more than once. For some houses, like Gryffindor, being chosen as a champion was a great thing. For others, it was a death sentence. Such as Hufflepuff. In the approximately ninety times the games were played, there were only two Hufflepuff victors.

I waited patiently. First, the Durmstrang names were chosen. The Goblet of Fire spit out a piece of parchment with a name on it. Dumbledore read it, then announced, "Viktor Krum!"

The Durmstrang students were cheered, though the envy in some of their eyes was obvious. Krum stood up, strode up to the front to shake Dumbledore's hand, and stood where all of the champions would be standing, in front of the—now empty—staff table.

Several other Durmstrang students names were read off; Krum was the oldest, and the youngest was a boy who had to be only thirteen.

I swallowed past the knot in my throat. Maddie's age.

Then the teacher started reading Beauxbatons names. The first was a girl, who shone and radiated like a pixie, named Fleur Delacour. Her long blonde hair bobbed when she walked. Some of the other girls began crying before all of the names were read off. It was much easier for the Durmstrang students to hide their jealousy.

An even younger champion was chosen from this group; there was a girl that had to be only twelve that was chosen.

A lot of students were silent when the name of a young champion was drawn at the vast unfairness of it all. So young, and having to fight to the death.

And fidgeting slightly, Dumbledore finally reached the Hogwarts names. The seconds ticked past like hours. I sat nervously on my now-sweaty hands, hoping to just get the damn thing over with. I wanted this all to end. After the champions were selected, there was a celebratory dinner for those who weren't selected. It was though to say we were lucky and were allowed life.

And then the Goblet of Fire emitted a name, and my stomach tightened into knots as Dumbledore read the name. My heart literally stopped; I probably missed three or four beats.

"Maddie Lewis."

No.

No, there was no way. I shut my eyes, refusing to believe it. For a moment, she sat there in fear, then stood, making her way to the front. There was the quieter applause that came with a young champion.

Most people did not understand my next move. Without a second thought, and with a lump in my throat, I jumped up and shouted two words:

"I volunteer!"

Time seemed to be frozen. Everyone was watching me, but I didn't care. I was not about to let her—_her,_ a thirteen-year-old girl, for Merlin's sake!—about to enter a risky competition, one where the winner's prize could very well be her head.

Dumbledore looked at me curiously. Maddie had frozen. "Well, then," he said quietly, nodding at me to walk up, which I did on unsteady legs.

She said nothing when I approached. "Miss Lewis, do you accept?" he asked.

She remained silent.

_Good, _I thought. _I'm not going to let this happen to you._

"Alright," he said, "Miss Lewis, please return to your seat. Mr. Diggory, please go stand with the other champions."

My title was champion, but I felt like I had come in last place.

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><p><strong>Ohey. In case you don't know, this is going to be an abundance of OCs. And in case you didn't notice, Maddie is my main OC. She's the focal point of my other Cedric Diggory fanfiction, Fearless: Love Causes It. If you want, go read that. I've had this idea ever since I started reading Hunger Games. But please note that my love lies with HP and I haven't finished Hunger Games, so this story is going to be different from that series. The reason Cedric volunteered will be explained next chapter. I also expect lots of different POVs, but I'm doing a lot of Hogwarts character's POVs mainly. Okay please review.<strong>

**- Hatter of Madness**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two—Flora's POV**

I was shocked when Diggory volunteered. He was the only volunteer throughout the whole list of names. Usually, there's at least two or three, since people want the title of Champion and the eternal glory that came with the games. But he was the only one this time, probably because the last time there was a games, all twenty-three champions were killed on the first day.

And I was completely shocked when seven Hogwarts students' names were read, and the Goblet of Fire emitted one more name: My own.

I had been holding onto my sister with dear life, but even Hestia couldn't spare me when my name was read. I walked to the table, ready to throw up. I glanced over at the Hufflepuff table on my way—stupid choice; I could see tears running down Lewis's face, no doubt from the fear she felt at Diggory being a champion in her place.

I took my spot next to Angelina Johnson, a girl from Gryffindor. She had just turned seventeen; she towered over me like a giant. I held my tongue, afraid of looking like an idiot.

Like Maddie Lewis, I was ready to cry. Colin, another Hogwarts champion, and I were only thirteen, and we were expected to go in and kill each other off! We were up against people that surely knew much more than we did—like Cedric, or Angelina, or Viktor, Fleur, Fred Weasley, or a girl from Durmstrang, Astrid Borja.

Most of the boy champions were burly, all of the girls were sleek...and here I was, terrified for my very life. I was not the part of a champion. There was no way I could win this thing. Tears formed in my eyes, but I was careful not to break down.

We were finally lead, in a midst of applauding and cheering, into another room by Alastor Moody, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It was crowded with all twenty-four of us. When we were there, the British Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, read off our names and ages. Rumor had it they read off our age so that the other champions could either figure out who was the easiest to kill off first or so that the younger champions could pretty much prepare their death certificate.

"For Durmstrang—Viktor Krum, eighteen. Dimitri Luvei, sixteen. Hans Sanner, fifteen. Ivar Hjelle, thirteen. Danica Malik, fifteen. Josefina Ulvaeus, fourteen. Astrid Borja, seventeen. Katrin Elden, fifteen. Beauxbatons—Fleur Delacour, seventeen. A'Marie Page, twelve."

My mouth dropped open. _Twelve?_ Well, I felt a bit more secure. At least Colin and I weren't the youngest after all.

"Genevieve Segal, fifteen. Paulete Colbert, sixteen. Oliver Petit, fourteen. Caine Adenot, fifteen. Claude Pascal, seventeen. Edmond Yvon, sixteen. And finally—Hogwarts," he said, looking at us with a twinkle in his eye. "Cedric Diggory, the volunteer, seventeen." It was customary for a volunteer to be specially announced, simply because they weren't actually chosen for the games. Cedric squared his jaw. If I was correct, he was replaying the moment when Maddie Lewis's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. "Harry Potter, fourteen." And the Boy Who Lived. The odds were against me. "Fred Weasley, sixteen. Colin Creevey, thirteen. Lavender Brown, fourteen. Cho Chang, fifteen. Angelina Johnson, seventeen. And last—but certainly not least—Flora Carrow, thirteen."

My legs felt like gelatin. Colin picked up his camera and took a picture of us, much to our consternation. He was smiling a mile a minute, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He was Muggle born. Most of us were at least halfblood, if not all besides him. And there were some younger people in the games.

With a wave of his wand, Moody conjured a table for us and chairs, and commanded that we sit in boy-girl order between (hopefully) people of our school, as another Wizard Games custom. I hated these customs. I was wedged between Fred and Colin. Cedric didn't look at anyone, but he was stuck between Cho Chang, a pretty fifth-year girl, and Fleur Delacour, the first Beauxbatons champion.

Much like the rest of the schools who didn't have to kill off people that could very well be their friends, like Harry, Angelina, and Fred, we were given a feast. I was unsure of when the games started, but knew it could be my last big meal before then and immediately started to stuff myself silly.

Fudge sat at the head of the table and made conversation, so we could get to know one another. He talked at length with Krum about Quidditch. We all knew he was a famous Bulgarian Quidditch player; I didn't need to hear more about him.

"So, Cedric," Fudge said, which attracted my attention. "You're a volunteer."

Cedric, who had barely touched his dinner, nodded. He was looking down at his hands, folded neatly in his lap.

"Tell us about that."

He bit his lip in apprehension. "Well, uh—they said her name and I thought she was too young to compete." He said no more.

"But there are younger people still here." I was angry at Fudge. Couldn't he tell Cedric didn't want to talk about it? Was he _really _that thick? "Like Flora and Colin, they're thirteen, too, and A'Marie—why, she's only twelve!"

"It's different."

"How so?"

I rolled my eyes. It was easy to see that they were friends. To me, anyway, it was easy to see. Was Fudge really so stupid that he wasn't getting the message? Why else would Cedric volunteer for her? Just because she was a young girl? Because she was 'too sweet and innocent' to be forced to go fight for her life? It was plain as day that they had some special connection. I took a bite on my potatoes, waiting to see the look on Fudge's face when he realized what should have been obvious.

"Because..." Cedric looked up. "I haven't told anyone in this room this, they don't have reason to know—but Maddie Lewis is my best friend—and she's also my girlfriend."

I immediately started choking and quickly threw back my nice, warm butterbeer to cover it. Colin looked at me in horror. I was completely shocked. For the three years that I had been attending Hogwarts, I had never seen any sign that Cedric even fancied girls. It was a joke to my sister and I that he was completely asexual. But obviously—well, at least now it was obvious—he was in love with someone. A female someone.

It seemed that Cho, the girl he was sitting next to, was jealous when he said this.

"Hang on," the girl called Lavender said, as though in thought. "She's the short one, right? Blonde hair, green eyes, glasses? Really petite and pale? Is that her?"

Cedric nodded. "That's her, yes."

Lavender squealed in delight. "Ooh, you two are _perfect_ together!" she said happily.

"But she's four years—" Harry started, but no one seemed to hear him.

Fred, who was sitting next to Cho, reached behind her and patted Cedric on the back. "Well done, Ced, well done. Way to get out there and get some."

"Mr. Weasley," Fudge warned. "Now then. It seems we have an abundance of Gryffindors this year, do we not?" I looked around the table instinctively. There was Harry, Fred, Colin, Lavender, and Angelina from Gryffindor alone. That meant only the rest of us three weren't a lion.

"I was really surprised when they said my name," Angelina said. If her tone was any indication, it was a happy surprise. "But I'm glad that Gryffindor has a fair shot."

"A very fair shot indeed," Fudge said. "So there's five Gryffindors, a Hufflepuff, and two Ravenclaws, then?"

"_Excuse_ me!" I said, jumping out of my chair and completely unable to control my temper. Fred and Colin looked at me curiously. "_I'm_ not a Ravenclaw, or a Hufflepuff, or a Gryffindor! _I'm _a Slytherin, _thank you _very _much!_"

Immediately after the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I sat down again slowly and awkwardly. How could Fudge mix up the house colors of Ravenclaw and Slytherin? They weren't that hard to figure out.

"How many times have you acted up this year, Miss Carrow?" Fudge asked. I wasn't sure if it was a personal attack against my inability to control my temper, trying to see how I was chosen for the Wizard Games, or both.

"None," I said quietly, "and I haven't docked Slytherin any points, if that's what you're thinking."

"_I_ have," Fred said proudly from my right, "my brother and I both. We wanted to be champions, you see. I suppose he's going to be upset that I was chosen and he wasn't."

Fudge laughed. "A little sibling rivalry never hurt." He turned to Cedric. "Now, Cedric, _here's_ what you ought to do. Make sure you win the games, no matter what happens, and then your little—"

"Excuse me," Fleur said in a thick accent French accent, "_excusez-moi_, Meenestair, but some of us without a romantic affliation would like to win az well. Why, we are up against"—she looked almost directly at Colin and I—"leetle children! I theenk it shall be myself, Veektor, and Claude in ze end."

"I'm not going down without a fight," Fred said indignantly.

"Now, now, take it easy—" Fudge said, trying to restore order. "I was just giving—"

"I have to go," a boy from Durmstrang said abruptly. I remembered his name being Dimitri. All eyes fell on him suspiciously.

"But my dear boy, the sun hasn't even gone done yet," the Minister said. That much was true. At Karkaroff's request, the champions names were selected late in the afternoon, and dinner began at five o'clock, when the sun began to sink slowly.

Moody, who had been standing at the door, jumped up onto his wooden leg and strode over to Dimitri, as though they shared a secret. "I'll be taking him, Cornelius," he said in a rough voice, grabbing onto Dimitri's arm and starting to hobble away towards the exit. "Just make sure Skeeter doesn't—"

At that moment, the door opened, and standing there was a woman with startlingly blonde hair and pale skin. She had a pad in one hand, a quill in the other. She had her eyebrows raised, giving her a perpetually intrigued look.

"Good evening, Minister," she said in a rather seductive voice. I wondered whether this was her tactic to stay and interview us. "Mind if I—"

"Get the bloody hell out of here, Skeeter," Moody said roughly, releasing his grip on Dimitri's arm momentarily. "No one wants you poking your nose into other people's business. This is a private dinner."

Rita Skeeter, the woman at the door, ignored him, stepping into the room more. "Oh, I already have all I need for an—interesting story." She walked up to me, twirling a lock of my hair around her finger as I flinched. "A wild girl, unable to control her tongue—" She turned to Fred, sitting directly next to me. "A mischievous troublemaker, desperate to make the front page—" Fred moved his mouth in a way that looked a lot like 'what the hell'. She ran to Krum, leaning over him and touching his bicep. "An international sports star—" She then turned to Cedric. "A star-crossed lover in a passionately dreadful situation—"

"That's enough, Skeeter!" Moody said from his spot by the door.

She crossed to him slowly, saying her next words in a hiss, like they were a curse. "A young boy with a terrible secret."

Moody, too, lowered his voice. "You know nothing about Dimitri Luvei or the rest of these champions."

"I know plenty."

"You know nothing."

"I know stories that would curl even your bushy hair, Alastor."

He glared at her for a moment, then shoved right past her, dragging Dimitri along with him.

After Dumbledore came in and ordered Rita Skeeter to leave at once, the party carried on for another few agonizing hours, as I was left alone in the insanity of my thoughts. I didn't want to compete, but at this point, I didn't have a volunteer or a choice. All I had was a fear and no plans for survival.

We were excused to go to a private lodging, a small makeshift cabin just outside of the castle. On the outside, it looked like it was about ready to cave in, but inside, it was beautiful. There were seven separate stories, with a lift to access each one. The ground floor was a sitting area, which lead off to a dining area where we would be having all of our meals. The next consequential floors were elaborate. The second floor was for the Durmstrang boys; the third for the girls. The fourth was for the Beauxbatons boys; the fifth for the girls. The sixth floor was for the Hogwarts boys; and the seventh for the girl.

There was a way to get to the roof, too, which was actually a separate floor in the cabin. However, Fudge claimed it was outside. This, I assumed, was just so he could say there were seven floors. The roof acted like the Great Hall; the ceiling was bewitched the look like the sky outside. It even rained there if it rained outside, or there was a breeze, and so on.

When I got to my room, I immediately fell onto the bed.

I was doomed.

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><p><strong>Sup people. I hope you liked this chapter. The thing with Dimitri will be explained eventually and if you think you know, then please don't say anything. If you're right, I don't want you to spoil it for other readers. Um...and yeah. Who's POV should I do next chapter? Please tell me in a review. :)<strong>

**- Hatter of Madness**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three—Harry's POV**

That night, when we were taken up to our rooms, I was shaking with fear. I was in the lift with the other Hogwarts champions: Cedric Diggory, the burly Hufflepuff seeker; Fred Weasley, who had a triumphant look on his face; Colin Creevey, who took pictures of anything and everything to mask his worries; Angelina Johnson, who was silent throughout the entire thing; Lavender Brown, a girl in my year who seemed to be lost in thought; Cho Chang, a pretty girl who made my heart pound; and Flora Carrow, a dark girl that didn't acknowledge anyone, and who had proved at dinner that she had quite a temper.

When the lift doors opened on our level, Cedric, Fred, Colin, and I exited the lift and it took the girls up another floor. It was like staying in a five star hotel, it was so cozy. The hallway's intricate designs on the walls matched the one on the floor. I saw four doors, each spaced a good distance apart 'for privacy purposes'. There were names on each door; at the end of the hall, I could see one labeled 'Harry J. Potter'. The closest one to us belonged to Fred; the one next to me, Cedric.

We all took off to our rooms, Cedric glancing down the hall as though he expected something. "Well, Ced," Fred said, breaking the silence, "I really admire your bravery in the Great Hall."

He had a perplexed look on his face. "Bravery?"

"For volunteering yourself," Colin said, the excitement dripping from his every word. Though I was by no means tall, he had to take two or three strides to keep up with every one of ours. "It was really..."

"Come off it," Cedric said quickly. "You would have done the same if it were Ginny, wouldn't you?" he asked Fred. He turned to Colin. "Or your brother?" He said nothing to me. "I probably would have done the same for a friend."

"What's the matter, Cedric, too gallant and noble to let her watch some grown-ups die?" Fred chuckled.

Cedric rounded on him. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, these Games are utterly _ridiculous!_" he snapped. "I was not about to sit back and let them kill off an innocent thirteen-year-old girl, let her fight to the death when she's hardly even lived her life! I mean, what are they thinking, letting you"—he said this to Colin—"or Flora, or any of the younger champions..." He trailed off, shook his head, and started again, "It's so unfair. They've hardly experienced anything and are expected to kill each other off? To knowingly walk into this, knowing full well that they could be bludgeoned at any point?"

"But we all know you did it because you love her," Fred said, rolling his eyes.

Cedric looked at the ground. "I never got the chance to tell her that."

"Well," I said, finally saying something, "we get to say good-bye to our loved ones before, right? Like...parents, and stuff?" I felt awkward talking about parents at a time like this. It was no secret to anyone in our world that, just some thirteen years prior, my parents were murdered...murdered, by the most evil wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort. He had tried to do me in, too, but for some reason, I survived with just a lightning bolt scar on my forehead.

People still feared to speak his name, and I definitely could see why. He enjoyed the feeling he got when he killed someone. He would relic in it.

For a moment, I wondered if _we,_ those of us that were forced to kill off innocent people to remind ourselves that we were better than Muggles, would get the same thrill he did when we were finally thrown together to kill each other.

Cedric nodded. That was all that was said before Fred disappeared to his room. As the door shut, we could hear him say, "Hello, bed. Meet face." I laughed in spite of myself. That was typical Fred.

As Colin's door shut after him, too, Cedric and I were alone. "You're friends with Fred and Angelina," he said. I nodded. "And as much as you don't want to admit it, Colin, too." I nodded again. "And I know you know Lavender, even if you're only acquaintances."

"What's your point?" I asked.

"You do know that out of the five of you, only one can win. That means that if it ends up being two of you, only one of you is going to survive. And out of us two, only one of us has a chance."

The way he worded it chilled my blood. "That's why you volunteered for her," I said. He nodded. "Yeah, well, I don't suppose I have someone that plays as fair as you do to throw in the mickey for me. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. I don't stand a chance out there."

He shook his head. We stopped, having reached his door. He leaned against it, and for the first time I got a taste of how small I really was. A lot of these champions were far bigger than I was, perhaps not by stature but by muscle, or even ability. I wasn't sure how they were being trained at the other schools, but there was a hot rumor that at Durmstrang, they had a special class set up for those that would be old enough to compete in the Games, available only the year before the Games took place.

"I think you have a fair chance," he said. "You're not allowed to use the Unforgivable Curses, but you, Krum, and I...we all have a talent that'll keep us safe. And depending how sharp witted Cho Chang is, and Fred and Angelina, they might have it too."

I had no idea what he meant, and I let him know by shaking my head. "You're not making any sense."

He looked up and down the hall. Strictly speaking, until the Games started, champions weren't supposed to share tactics. I'm sure that didn't stop people in the past, though. In History of Magic, when it was announced that the Wizard Games would take place this year, Professor Binns (the one thing I actually _had_ learned in his class) had told us that a lot of the champions formed allies until they were forced to kill each other off. Perhaps some people formed allies outside of the Games. I wasn't sure.

"We're allowed a wand, and pretty much any spell we want," he said in a hushed tone. "Doesn't that include the Summoning Charm?"

I was confused. "I'm sure you, me, Krum, and possibly the others aren't the only ones that know that."

He smiled. I was starting to get annoyed with him rather quickly. Mainly it was because he actually _looked_ the part of champion; I had always been small and skinny for my age, whilst he was tall and muscular, and all the girls found him handsome, too. It would be interesting if it was ever announced that he wasn't exactly available. "No, I'm sure the others know about it, too," he said, then whispered, in such a hushed tone I had to lean in to hear it properly, "but do the others know how to fly as well as us?"

I stared at him. "Good night, Harry," he said, stepping into his room.

"Wait!" I called, but it was too late; the door clicked shut. I was angry. At myself...at Cedric...at the Ministry...at Fudge...at whoever came up with these stupid Games. When my name had been called out as a champion, I was rooted to the spot. I could practically feel the daggers that Ron was glaring at me. I could feel the sharp sting of his disapproval. But I knew that when his brother was called, he was supportive.

And how could he not be? It was his brother against me. I wouldn't have rooted for myself either.

With nowhere else to go, I entered the room left for me. It was more welcoming in appearance than the boys' dormitory I shared with Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus for sure, with its red walls and golden carpet, carpet so soft it was like walking on an animal hide. The bed was made, no doubt by house elves, so perfectly that I was at first hesitant to get into it. It had a red bedspread, with gold pillows that had "H.P." in the center. My things had been brought in as well; in the corner on a mahogany table stood the cage that held my owl, Hedwig. She hooted when she saw me.

I followed a mahogany door first into a walk-in closet (my clothes already hanging there), and another into a bathroom, complete with the biggest bathtub I had ever seen. The entire surface of this room was neither red nor gold; rather, everything seemed to be made out of purely white marble. My skin suddenly felt like pins and needles from the desire to relax for a moment and take my mind off of things, which I did. In the bathroom was hanging a blood red bathrobe on gold hooks, with white slippers beneath it on the floor. I placed the slippers and a single golden towel on the white rug in front of the tub. This rug was as soft as the carpet outside.

I turned on the golden faucet and shifted impatiently from foot to foot as it filled with water, steam coming off the surface. It finally turned off, close to overflowing, by itself and I climbed in, not caring how warm it was, but found to my delight that it was the perfect temperature.

After a while, a house elf came in to check on me and told me to my horror that it was already ten o'clock. I had arrived in the room at about eight thirty; surely I hadn't taken an hour and a half in one spot? But looking at my hands, my skin was wrinkled. I thanked the elf, then allowed the water to drain before pulling the towel hastily around me before going to find my pajamas. When I walked back in the room, Hedwig continued to hoot at me, glaring at me. I was unsure if I should let her out or not, but sank onto the bed.

The day had been rough. I wasn't used to this kind of luxury before, and it saddened me that this would be home for only a short while, before I had to compete in the Games and fight for my life.

I must have been on the bed for longer than I thought as well, as the analog clock beside me it was almost midnight before fatigue set in. I set my glasses on the bedside table, got up and opened the golden curtains to get some fresh air in the room, and went back to the bed, completely exhausted.

But sleep would not come. I got up and paced for a bit, stared out the window, made myself a cup of butterbeer (there were supplies in the bathroom, of all places), even tried taking another bath, but yet sleep still would not come to me.

_Fine,_ I thought, wondering if this was a setup by the Ministry to drive me insane before the want to kill did. _Fine. Go ahead and taunt me. See if I care. I'm not a piece in your stupid Games._

But I knew...I knew very well that I was.

By the time I finally went to sleep, it was almost four in the morning, and I knew I would be roused for breakfast by eight. That seemed to be a tradition: Get the champions used to elaborate meals at certain times, then force them into starvation in the Games. People had been talking about the rules in both excitement and anxiety ever since it was announced that the Wizard Games were coming back.

We would be starting training the next day, and I knew I had to come up with a plan.

My plan?

_Don't die._

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><p><strong>Okay I'm reading the Hunger Games as we speak (or really as I type and you so graciously read :D thank you to everyone that read, reviewed, favorited, alerted, etc., by the way), and I really think it was a stupid idea that Collins threw in before Part III of the first book. So if you guys know what I'm talkingtyping/ranting about, good for you. Hopefully you agree. And it was oh so predictable. Tomorrow is my last day of school before winter break, so you can hopefully expect updates on a lot of stories from me then :D I found out that I got an eighty-four percent on my AP European History final, which made my final grade a B. I wanted straight A's but since AP Euro is my first AP class that I've ever taken, I'll accept a B x) Besides, I don't think I'll do any better than a B in Algebra II anyway, soo... Yeah, my school rant is over. Please tell me in a review who's POV you want me to do next chapter. If I like it enough I'll do it.**

**- Hatter of Madness**


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